Third trimester pants.

When Myles and I were first married there were two pairs of pants I wore, only at home, that made us both happy because they were so ridiculous.  My bamboo pants, and my “jazz pants.” The bamboo pants were essentially a thermal layer, clearly intended to be worn under something else.  They were incredibly soft leggings made of bamboo and had images of bamboo leaves all over.  I have them still but let’s be honest, I’m no longer in the one-teen weight class anymore. The jazz pants, however, have no weight limit.  They would comfortably accommodate half a dozen people.  They were great!  I don’t remember specifically buying them, or getting rid of them, but I haven’t had them for a few years.  At this juncture I’d pretty much live in them if I still had them. 

You see, my body doesn’t do the third trimester very gracefully.  I get big.  I’m not one of those cute ladies who stay thin throughout their body and just have a cute little bump proving pregnancy, have the baby and sport a flat tummy the following week.  Unfortunately, I gain from head to toe, thicken up all over and my belly becomes astronomical.  It’s so big.  As in, fairly early on, I get questions about twins or being due any day. By this point most comments are about defying gravity and exploding. It’s really sweet.

If my jazz pants were still in my possession, I would wear them everyday.  I am a pajama girl (ask pretty much anyone who knows me).  My entire wardrobe seems to be shrinking as this belly, well, entire body, expands and yoga pants are my go-to style.  For a while, it’s all good, but these days the elastic in the waist of yoga pants feel more and more restricting. Let’s not talk about how stretchy tight pants surely aren’t doing my thighs any favors. I’ve found myself longing for those enormous jazz pants. Baggy?  That has not been an adjective for anything in my life for a long time. 

I finally found the perfect pair of copy-cat jazz pants at Old Navy.  Yes they are pajamas, and yes, I wear them far more often than I’m proud to admit. I bought them two sizes bigger than what I’d normally wear and they barely touch me.  It’s glorious. Never mind the fact that I had to hem about 5 inches off the bottom just so I didn’t completely eat it each time I attempted the stairs. I may or may not have ordered another pair from Old Navy online, thus doubling the content of “pants I like wearing” category.

For preschool drop-off on Wednesday I was sporting these billowing beauties, paired with a sizable hoodie of Myles’ (because, you know, I’ve outgrown all mine) and I realized when I pulled into the parking lot that I hadn’t even looked in the mirror yet. I’m certainly not one to stay inside if I haven’t put makeup on, but my social acceptability conscience usually pipes up if I’m considering going out in public with bed head. It must have taken the day off because I totally went into the school looking a hot mess.  Clearly, I’m not out to impress anyone. At 37.5 weeks pregnant, with bed head and a fashionably challenged ensemble I left my (super awesome) van and brought Molli to her classroom.

By the time I got back to the car, I had three people comment on how I looked. The kindergarten teacher watched me for a second and told me, “You are just looking so incredible.  Not many people look as great as you this far along!” I was shocked!  Then Molli’s teacher enthusiastically commented on how cute I am looking.  I assumed I’d used up all the kind words the world had to offer but then another mom from the school, whom I don’t even know, stopped me and told me that she’s been enjoying watching me grow each week and even said that she wishes she looked half as good and fit as I do. It was refreshing to receive positive statements from unexpected people! There wasn’t one mention of “my goodness, can you get any bigger?!” “How are you not tipping over?!” or “Woah, still pregnant… you must be miserable.”

And for the record, yes I can apparently always get bigger, I haven’t tipped over since I hemmed my miracle pants, and yes I’m still pregnant but certainly not miserable.  In fact, I’m thrilled!  I feel pretty great physically (minus a head cold), I have a beautiful family and I’m preparing for another blessing to arrive in the very near future.  I have an imperfect, but fabulous life and I’m honestly basking in all these good things, including my fabulous third trimester pants.